


Different Can be Good, I think

by doyke



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Rare Pairings, angsty then mushy, maybe. future tricycle i mean polyamory we'll see???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23392246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyke/pseuds/doyke
Summary: Karen is left crushed and alone from her breakup with Jim. Pam tries desperately to salvage their friendship. Set after last episode of season three. Karen deserved better u guys :'(. rating may change idk we'll see;)
Relationships: Pam Beesly/Karen Filippelli
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

Hi been a couple years since I've written. just throwing this together to cope. don't expect much I'm just sad and love rashida jones and jenna fischer. enjoy:)

-

Karen had felt a cavity in every moment passed after leaving Stanford. She heard it in everything she told the crew in that pseudo-confident voice she could hardly tolerate hearing herself speak in, in every word that fell between them onto the linoleum table in the bright hypnagogic light of the kitchen at 3:00AM. It permeated her subconscious like a nightmare does sometimes; violently, and with an intimacy so unequivocal it hurt.

She idolized Stanford. She idolized the movement of a backwards turning swivel chair that she would work so hard to get, and would turn into the back of a tousled curly head that she stared too long at. She had toiled over omitting sentences into her thoughts like, if only it had been another branch merged, and if only they had transferred us somewhere else, because those sentences made her feel stupid and obsessive. She wasn't stupid and she wasn't obsessed.

She was just heartbroken. That's all.

The morning of her first day in the office without Jim was slow and painful. When she got in she somehow expected him and Pam not to be there, like as soon as the weight of her involvement had been released, they would fly up and away into nowhere. But as soon as she walked in, there were the same soft pair of eyes that had greeted her every day. They took a double take and hesitantly smiled, immediately darting back down to the desk. Around the bend, the other pair of doll eyes did the same.

She inadvertently accomplished a lot of work; trying to look as busy and guileless as possible. That was on her list of things to keep her from going home; return to things as normal and if you look cool minded and unconcerned then you will feel it. But if anything, this was highlighting how much the separation had affected her. This wasn't normal. This was Scranton. Scranton was Jim. Jim was normal.

One of the worst parts of the day was how much she could tell Pam was staring at her. She could tell Jim felt too guilty to fully acknowledge her, but she could practically smell the pity that radiated off of Pam from across the room. It was a sickly sweet, burnt sugar scent. It made her queasy.

It was nearing 4:00 when she had had enough and she looked up and over to meet the eyes she knew would be there. She held their gaze even when the other's dropped guiltily.

The parade resumed when she was the first to leave the office. She even saw Michael's head peering at her from behind the lowered shutters of his office. The camera felt like it was burning a hole through her.

When she slammed the door of her car she was immediately ready to cry, but she forced herself to pull out of the lot as soon as she could with a desperation she'd never felt so strongly.

When she got back to apartment she screamed into her hands.

The peripheral image of Pam's stare clung to her like sap. It kept her from sleeping until 2:00AM when she took some Ambien and fell asleep to the sound of a voicemail that Jim had left her right before they had transferred about something stupid.

-

stupid short one i promise next one will be morer


	2. 2

hi bit of a longer one this time!

-

Pam's yesterday had been one exponentially arduous battle between not working, staring at Jim, and staring at Karen.

Her capacity for distraction had always been one she secretly indulged in, identified with, even. But this was a level of impatience and amotivation she had previously frowned upon when it was featured in others. She had standards.

Not yesterday though, apparently.

Today marked two days since her first date with Jim. The Euphoria was passionate, but not unmitigated. The mood swings she had experienced in the last 48 hours alone were enough to satisfy the next twelve months of psychological activity, she thought. It was just this aching doubt, dragged down by weights of guilt, pity, and an indecisive seesaw of whether or not she felt regretful. It was true, what she had told the crew and the rest of the office, that she was confident in her new found verity. Everything felt so much easier. She did not regret what she'd said on the beach. She didn't. But the curtain of false indifference that Karen had tugged behind her to work the day before elicited a feeling so akin to watching an accident on the freeway you had narrowly avoided being the cause of. No, She didn't regret anything. But how could anyone be as heartless as to feel no empathy at all?

So averting her eyes from that freeway accident was simply not an option.

She couldn't tell if Karen noticed her. She couldn't tell if Karen noticed anything. But she must, right? How could she not? She still looked so normal.

Pam began to think near the end of the workday that she could draw her face from memory, like she could do Jim's. But maybe that was what everyone could do after a sum of maybe four and a half hours of staring at a person. She had always admired Karen's freckles, in the way that she remembered the freckles she had had as a kid, and wondered if it would make Karen like her more if she had them again. But now she knew Karen wouldn't care about her freckles because they wouldn't be friends, which gave Pam an unexpected pang of grief. No more committee for planning parties.

She and Jim had interacted little outside of lunch. If she herself felt guilty, she could only guess at how much worse he was dealing with it, based mostly on the fact of his hunched reluctance to look up from his screen. She thought maybe he would have expected Karen not to come in that day, and Pam did admit to him that night, it would have made things a lot simpler if she left Scranton.

But today was Saturday, and that was yesterday. And she was cradled in Jim's lanky arms on her couch in the glimmer of the afternoon sun from the skylight above them and she could almost forget about anything that happened between the very second of today and when Jim left for Stanford.

A headache and the sweat of oversleeping woke Karen at 2:00pm on the Sunday a week and two days after her first day without Jim. Her Blackberry had died halfway through the night, sitting dark and unresponsive on the bedside table as a reminder of how many hours she had replayed the sound of Jim's voice to fall asleep to for the eighth night in a row.

Before she could close her eyes again, the landline by her head rang unforgivingly. She turned over and let it go to voicemail but following the tone arrived, distant and broken, the second to last voice she wanted to hear.

"Hi, Karen. I just called to- I just wanted to call and ask- or say that...sorry. Sorry. I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry. Forget this. Bye, sorry."

She sat up and opened her eyes, leaning over the table to stare at the machine groggily. It was something she had maybe expected. She wasn't hurt, but that feeling -that sickly sweet, pitiful smell was in her nose and in her stomach again.

Over the last week the impression of a performance in coming to work had relented gradually. Within the first few days, the rest of the office stopped gawking as she came in and out of the room, then Jim had come up to her as she got in her car, saying that he was sorry if she felt like he was ignoring her, he just didn't know how to act or how much space he should be giving her, but he wanted to let her know that if she ever wanted to talk, he would listen...because he wanted to stay friends. It was very well put and she could tell he was sincere, but it made her feel more shitty. Because it also meant that he had expected her to leave. On the third day, she had braved the break room with Pam and told her that she could see her staring. "I don't like being pitied, and I wish you wouldn't. I'm fine." It had felt harsh and cold, but Pam knew her. She knew how good Karen was at confrontation. Knowing Pam would expect Karen to say something about how they were acting didn't make the guilty, puppy dog look on Pam's face any less painful.

She listened to the message again in self-commiseration. It was toothachingly Pam.

She rolled over and brought the duvet over her head, bringing her knees to her chest.

She had barely cried since the night of the breakup. She thought maybe it was because of all the crying she had done while they were still together towards the end.

Crying after it ended felt weak, because she had known the whole time.

She wasn't weak and she wasn't crying.

The next morning Karen lightly slowed her pace as she entered the office and passed reception. She was rewarded for her suspicions when Pam looked up and beckoned her in with an "Oh," for a whispered apology; "I'm really sorry about that call yesterday. I've been...I haven't known how to say that I miss our friendship, but that's a really selfish thing to want, and- and its' too soon, and it was kind of insensitive of me, so, I'm really sorry about that." Karen could hear the anxiety and uncertainty in Pam's voice as she rambled, and it made her want to apologize herself, which made her feel stupid. She gave her a nod, and soft 'It's okay." which she hoped would be medium enough that it wouldn't be a full testament of amicability, but she didn't want Pam to feel uncomfortable.

Jim looked up and smiled for the first time as she passed his desk and it hurt but it was a less wrenching pain than when he didn't.

That day went eerily well. There was a semblance of comfort somewhere in the air, and Karen subconsciously attributed it to her introduction into the morning.

Pam's words were stuck in her head for hours, and Karen diligently deliberated on whether or not to say something to either of them on her way out. A bcc email from Jim to the office (sans Micheal, obviously) with a call to adjourn at Poor Richards after work resolved this issue. It was a Monday, but Karen learned from the break room that Micheal had purchased another pair of those jeans he felt so good in and had confided in Dwight that he would be wearing them the next day. This obviously meant that everyone would be able to wiggle in an extra hour of sleep the next morning.

At the end of the day she stopped at Jim's desk on her way out to her car as he finished up, to joke about this ridiculous paradox. He quipped back, and it made her laugh a little, for what she realized was the first time since their dissolution.

When they arrived, she sat next to Phyllis and across from Oscar, who was next to Jim and Pam. She pointed to something new and awful sounding on the blackboard above the bar. "That sounds like the worst thing for my body and I'm getting it." She guessed Jim heard her, because after Phyllis looked at her in apprehension and near horror, he called out "Bourbon Blue Raspberry Lemonade Darquiris for everyone! On the house!" eliciting half cheers, half grumbles.

She was hesitant to drink too much at first, but soon everyone was much more drunk than she was, and weary of feeling left out and danced around, she ultimately gave in heartily to the longing that had eaten at her all week for getting trashed.

They played the usual table games and she found herself experiencing an impression akin to fun. It was impossible not to stay pretty distant from Jim and Pam. It was almost like falling asleep with someone else in the room; even when you're at your deepest slumbers, the awareness of someone's presence keeps you from sleepwalking or talking about something embarrassing in your sleep. It was a constant, and interactions from her end were kept at a minimum...Until around 12:45 when everyone began to leave. And she was the definitively the most blasted.


	3. 3:0

liked writing this one a lot, so soft, i love them

-

Pam hadn't talked to Karen all night. She had witnessed Jim's wary and ginger efforts and, still respectfully unsure of where she stood, she had watched on the sidelines as the two of them, as well as everyone else, became gradually more and more inebriated.

The day that Karen confronted her she had almost cried to Jim after work. She was drenched in guilt and there was a sense near perversion surrounding the matter. But when he noticed she was upset on the way out, he hugged her and suggested a night in for a movie. All she could say was thank you, his hug made everything feel better. She spent the following Sunday alone, however, which meant for her that it pointed indisputably at a phone call of apology to Karen. Only when the voicemail tone reached her did it occur how obtuse or vainglorious recompense in a phone call could appear coming from the woman who had caused the person on the other end all the heartbreak in the first place.

Pam supposed Karen's confidence did demonstrate the fact that she was still the Karen Pam knew before everything -Jim or no- which, though the interaction had been upsetting and she had felt horrible, it comforted her a little to know that Karen wasn't too damaged as to despairingly shut down completely. And it had been much easier not to stare after that, yes, but it didn't make the wondering (worrying?) any better.

And tonight as Karen noticed things less, Pam could do so more. Pam could tell how hard she was working to avoid the two of them, but whenever Jim said something to her, she reacted like herself again, her eyes focused and her smile reached them in the wrinkles that imparted genuine gladness. The camera was on the three of them for much of the night trying to pick up tension, but Pam didn't think she harbored any true jealousy towards Karen, she thought. And she truly tried to show it. Maybe the pity compensated. She felt safe enough to drink until she was dizzy, but not so much that she couldn't comprehensively remain in control of her surroundings.

Karen, on the other hand…

Pam grabbed her elbow as she stumbled on her way out the door. "Thanks smuch," Karen flashed her a smile and snaked her arm backwards to intertwine it with hers'. Obviously Pam's gut reaction was to gently disentangle herself.

But on second thought, Karen was so warm, and from this closeness Pam caught the redolent blueberry scent from the Darquiris that she insisted on continuously ordering even when everyone had moved to less alchemical drinks. And, yes, Karen probably wouldn't remember it later.

They were all shuffling outside disjointedly, Jim leading the party to Meredith's van who had driven them all and agreed to do so at the end of the night. Upon reaching it however, it was concluded that Meredith was hardly sober enough to drive a large, not altogether functioning vehicle containing nearly ten people. This led to an all-inclusive analysis of who was the least plastered of the group. "I think that I should drive because even though -even THOUGH- I do not hold my liquorrr well, I should DRIVE because have the best and most good hand to mouth coordination," Karen slurred to herself, or whoever was listening, beneath the not much more rational deliberation of everyone else. Pam, still on her arm, looked at her and chuckled. "I think you mean hand-eye coordination." Jim had just vacated the group upon being ruled out and he interjected wholeheartedly, "No, no, Pam, she definitely means hand to mouth coordination. She is extra-ordinarily talented at throwing and catching popcorn in her mouth. And is very finically wise…like a financial owl." He stressed each syllable in the extraordinary like an old English aristocrat.

"Yes I am. Thank you."

"I don't know if that's going to help you drive us all home, Karen," Pam laughed again.

"You have no idea. Pam. You wouldn't believe- I'll be right back." Jim galivanted uncoordinatedly back into the bar for an apparent supply for anticipated performance of this talent. Pam felt, even in her drunken state and contrary to what she had convinced herself all night, a twinge of jealousy.

It was very unlike the jealousy she had felt when Karen and Jim had dated, though, much more resembling the sense of insignificance she had felt all throughout school as she looked up to the more popular girls and the class clowns. But she was no longer the meek and trampled girl who did not speak her mind. She would be a part of this dumb, drunk bit if it killed her.

"HEADS UP!" Jim shouted from across the lot as he emerged from the bar, a bag of Corn nuts in hand, preparing the stance of a football player ready to throw. "Ooh hooh, ready! Hit me, coach!" Pam's arm was abandoned by Karen's hand- who's presence had become forgotten and who's warmth was now sorely missed- and lunged into an overexaggerated, open mouthed crouch that made Pam whoop with laughter. In a burst of liquid courage and a kick of her newfound confidence, Pam began to narrate the events as a sports broadcaster; "Batter up! Or whatever! The catcher is ready for the play! And he pitches the first pitch, aaaand! Noo! A faulty catch from the catcher lady…player person!" Karen missed the first corn nut by a few feet and doubled over in a fit of giggles.

"NNO! No, I can do it! Jim sab- *hicc* sabotaged me, I promise! Doit again!" Karen righted herself, still laughing, and prepared for another pitch from Jim, shuffled a little closer for an easier target.

"Here she gooes, hopefully better luck this time for the sake of the lives of everyone at Dunder Mifflin Scranton branch! He's angling his pitch thoughtfully- she anticipates his angle thingy aaand…Oh nooo! Another miss for the catcher! Oh well, third times a charm, sweetie."

"That'ss very sexist of you Mr. commentator, you shouldn't call people sweetie, that's mygoginisic-mistoginostic-mis-" Karen pouted and shook her fist at Pam in feign annoyance.

"Yeah! stop objectifying the players, Commentator! Equalll rights for mouth sports!" An onslaught of nuts flew at her from Jim's direction, Pam unsuccessfully stumbling to dodge them as she gasped with laughter.

"Hey! Stop, I'm sorry! I'm just an old rich white dude who can get away with anything because sports fans call me a national legend, ok? It won't happen again! I'm sorry!"

"You're a national treasure mister Commentator! Woohoo! We loove you!" Karen whisper-shouted through cupped hands.

"Okay, Okay, Batter up! The pitcher is in position! I can really feel it this time ladies and gentlemen! He makes the shot! WE HAVE A CATCH AND A CHEW LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! CONGRATULATIONS to the lady-winner with an amazing rack who I don't remember the name of like all the other women I meet because I'm a massive asshole and maybe also a sexual predator who is also a sports national treasure!" Jim whooped and cheered wildly imitating a crowd while Karen danced a victory dance, still chewing on her winning catch. Pam felt that familiar rush of adrenaline like she had had from the beach and the smile that plastered itself to her face made her mouth hurt.

The Group to Choose a Driver chosen, and had reverted back to Meredith as she had proven to still possess full motor skills even through the many drinks she had had, and everyone piled into the van. The three of them sat at the back together with Karen and Jim on the ends and Pam in the middle. At some point after a few minutes of silence, something made Karen laugh. Just a snicker at first, then giggling, then wheezing breathlessly. Pam couldn't even remember what after, it was something Dwight did, or said, she couldn't recollect exactly, but for some reason she just couldn't stop, and when Pam and Jim asked her what it was, Karen couldn't even answer she was so choked up. So they laughed at her helpless state, then when she had finally managed to regain a voice and told them what she had laughed at, they had laughed too, and thus began the vicious cycle. Anything tipped them off, from the way Kelly's voice from the front seat ran words a mile a minute, only to be met by Angela's indifferent grunts as if she hadn't consumed three bottles of Coors, to Angela correcting Andy's pronunciation of the word pestilence…to the way Angela said pestilence. Most of the laughing was at Angela or Dwight. Or Angela and Dwight.

As they neared the end of the ride Pam's lungs and jaw ached and more than half of her makeup had left her face and disappeared with the tears which had caused of another fit of laughter from all of them. Karen had moved into the apartment near Jim, they all lived relatively close, so soon they were the only ones left in the Van except Meredith and here wasn't much else to laugh at. They fell into a comfortable, still smiling quiet. Pam relaxed into the jolting of the vehicle as it jostled them back and forth together and she felt a soft, buzzing warmth in the comfort of their proximity that they shared. It was probably the alcohol that made it feel so peaceful, but it was nice. Really nice.

Perfect, even.


	4. 4

heya long time sry  
-

Karen’s first moment of cognizance began from under the translucency of heavy lids; a shimmer of light through the leaves of a tree with gently dancing branches. The quiet tenderness of the moment should have only aided the release of sleep as it beckoned her to return, but something about it felt uncanny. She didn’t want to open her eyes in fear that the slumber of before would disappear with the sight of reality. But as she grew more conscious and the obliviousness of her dreams ebbed achingly further from reality, she came to remember that there was no tree in her bedroom window, and when she finally relented and opened her eyes she remembered that there was no tv or armchair either, or anyone to cause the smell of coffee from her kitchen.  
She rolled over and covered her head with a pillow.

Memories from the night before dripped back very slowly like the last remaining drops of honey from a bottle. Explicitly, there was nothing. But emotionally there was some kind of safety or a comfort, or something. Really, all she truly remembered was laughing. And Jim and Pam. Laughing with Jim and Pam.   
Everything ached. She sat up slowly and gingerly dropped her legs to the cold floor. She was still wearing her work clothes minus the blazer and also a pair of pale pink and white striped socks she didn’t recognize. 

Her head swam but she stood up anyways, letting the sudden seesaw of the earth pass before padding towards the open door of a bathroom, visible (thank god) from where she had woken up.  
-  
Pam recognized the shuffle and the click of a door handle that she had been waiting to hear for a very anxious half hour. She retraced everything she remembered from last night

When they had reached near where Jim’s house was, Meredith had pushed all three of them out at once, knowing how close they lived and not wanting to take the extra trouble to drive in a three to four block loop two more times. So they had all piled out and there was a bit of an awkward break where no one knew how to say goodbye; Pam still felt the tingle of intimacy from the car ride, Jim was staring at his feet, Karen was noticeably swaying and staring at Jim. Pam had found herself unable to tear her eyes from Karen’s face. It was still glowing from the heat of the van and the warmth of a drunken smile, even in the cold and dim leer of the streetlamp. She could tell the smile was for Jim’s seemingly shoe-occupied eyes, and Pam sensed something in Karen’s demeanor that suggested she was about to say something to him that she may or may not regret, should she remember it. Pam staggered through a (personally, she thought) heroic attempt to mitigate whatever this was.  
“Ok, um, I’m going to head home. I’m kind of really drunk, haha...Karen, you’re…just up the street a few blocks, right? I’m kind of close in that direction, but I don’t really want to walk alone cause...the dark...”  
“Okay. Yes, arm please.” Karen had agreed with a heavy lidded grin.   
Pam gave Jim a hasty kiss on the lips as to not be insensitive, and he waved to Karen as he turned to retire.  
It took Pam a block and a half to give up toting Karen home. She was exhausted and Karen could barely walk in a straight line and was leaning heavily on the arm that Pam had lent. Her house came first, and when they began to pass it, Pam simply turned towards the door and lead Karen inside with her with a mumble about not wanting to walk any further in the dark. She’d felt a cool pool of doubt in her gut but the exhaustion of the night was overpowering. She saw the Camera crew behind her that she had forgotten was with them until that moment, and closed to door on them before they could enter. When they had entered, Karen immediately crashed on the couch and went out like a light and Pam had felt a giddy, alcohol-induced mothering instinct in seeing her curled up there. in an attempt to mitigate the discomfort of sleeping in work clothes, had pried off Karen’s blazer and given her a pair of her socks.   
She had been planning on thinking about how and what to talk about to Karen about the next morning, but sleep had overtaken her the moment her head hit her pillow.

Now this lack of preparation was proving more influential than Pam felt comfortable with.  
“Hey.” With Pam’s back to her, she hadn’t noticed Karen emerge from the bathroom and she stiffened at the sound of her voice.  
“Hi! How did you sleep? Not too uncomfortable I hope?”  
“Oh, no. All good. I kind of blacked out.” Karen sighed as she rubbed her eyes and ran her hand through her hair.  
“I, um...coffee?” Pam stumbled over her words with what she hoped was a friendly smile.  
“Um, no. No, I’ll probably just grab something on the way to work, I have a call with Corporate in half an hour so. I should actually probably head out.” She was already putting her blazer on and Pam didn’t like that for some reason. So she offered her something she didn’t really think about before she said it.   
“Oh, let me drive you! It’ll be much faster.” She braced herself for Karen’s reaction, unsure of what she expected. Her few friendly advances had gone okay so far, though in special circumstances, and the suggestion was a practical solution, she thought.  
“I, um…” Karen’s brow furrowed in indecision. Pam could tell she had made her feel awkward but she couldn’t detect any animosity.  
“Actually, sure. I should really get there soon.” This made Pam smile in relief.  
“Great! Do you have everything? I’m ready to go when you are, I’ll just throw some of this in a thermos for you- you’ll thank me later.”

Most of the ride was quiet. Pam turned on the radio within the instant she entered the car so there would be no room for silence. A little after the fifteen out of the twenty-five minute mark of their drive, Karen had chuckled softly to herself. When prompted to explain, she described a very vague memory from the night before and they laughed together as Pam realized the scene with a few details Karen had lapsed.   
“God, that blueberry drink was truly from hell. I think I still taste it.” Karen rubbed her eyes in a motion that was unmistakably hangover ridden.  
“I can’t believe you actually drink all of it, I took like one sip and immediately gave up. It tasted like dayquil mixed with welch’s.”   
“A drink’s a drink...but I’m so disappointed in myself.” She shuddered and Pam laughed. A gap in conversation occurred as the song on the radio switched to a cover of Silver Spring. Thankfully Karen breeched the silence that teetered on becoming awkward.  
“Why are we coming in late today again?”   
“Oh, Micheal has a new pair of fun pants?” Pam’s voice rose at the end to withdraw the level of recognition on the subject.  
“Umm, sexual?”  
“No, no. Nothing like that...Well, actually...they’re the equivalent of a Micheal sugar rush- which I believe you’ve experienced- and a high and maybe , yeah, maybe some sexual drive in there, all rolled up in one. It’s horrifying.”  
“Oh, God.”  
“Yeah, it’s awful. But it also means he plays cool with everyone and pretends he’s, like, some sort of lax substitute teacher trying to impress everyone. Hence, the night out. The trick is bearing him until late enough in the day to get them off of him, but not leaving it too long that he makes everyone quit their jobs.”  
“That is an enormous responsibility.”  
Oh, yeah it's bad. Jim helps though, he’s really the expert on that. It’s such a relief to have him there when it happens.” This caused another divet in conversation as Karen hummed neutrally and looked out the window. They were almost to the office and Pam dreaded the thought that this might leave a negative energy on the day, so she scrambled to try and salvage the moment.  
“This is a horrible cover. This whole station is really bad, I’m sorry to make you listen, I wasn’t really paying attention. I should really have more CDs in here, I just always forget.” It was beginning to approach a classification of rambling so she cut herself off abruptly.  
“Really? I have so many CDs in my car they’re all of her the floor. It’s attrocious.”  
“Maybe you’ll have to hook me up, Fillipeli. You owe me for this ride.”  
“You offered to drive me!” Karen guffawed.  
“I know, I know. I just really want free CDs.” Karen laughed at this and her giggle made Pam smile. The knowledge that she had the capability to say something that Karen deemed funny was euphoric. ‘In a older popular- friend way’, she later told the camera.  
“We’ll see. Beesly. We’ll see.”


End file.
